Occasions
by flowerpicture
Summary: A look at some of the special occasions in the life Brendan and Ste share together.


AN: I have no idea why the kids continue to live with Ste full time rather than go back to Amy. LET'S JUST GO WITH IT OKAY. And this is pure fluff, btw. Self-indulgent fluff. No shame. (Also I know I have WIPs to update. I just couldn't get this idea out of my head last night and had to get it written.)

**Christmas—Year 1**

They only got back together a week ago, in Dublin. Everything has moved so quickly.

It's not until Brendan's sitting at the table in Stephen's grotty flat, Leah and Lucas both whining at him to put his paper Christmas hat on, Ste's eyes alight with humour, that it hits him: this is it for him now. This is his life. Him and Stephen and Stephen's kids, meals around this tiny, wobbly table, draft whispering over the side of his face from dodgy double glazing installations.

Stephen smiling. The kids teasing him.

"Fine," he grumbles, and unfolds the cheap paper hat that had come tumbling out of the Christmas cracker he'd pulled with little Lucas. The hat is an alarming shade of neon pink and it doesn't fit his head in the slightest. "Happy?"

"Say cheese," Stephen says, and snaps a picture on his phone before Brendan can even think to protest.

Brendan knows that photo's going straight up on Facebook as soon as Stephen gets a chance. He grabs Stephen by the tinsel wrapped around his neck like a scarf and pulls him in. "Cheese," he says. "You fucker."

Leah gasps at his language, but Brendan's too busy laying a smacking kiss on Stephen's mouth to apologise.

This is his life now. And all Brendan can think is _finally_.

**Valentine's Day—Year 2**

Stephen's running late, and it's fucking Brendan off. He told Stephen he'd have the takeaway ordered by eight and it's nearing half past; Brendan's already had a glass and a half of wine. The Chinese has gone cold.

_Sorry, on my way x_, the text reads. Brendan doesn't answer it. Reading it would delay Stephen by another few seconds and Brendan's at the end of his patience.

Leah comes stumbling into the living room, rubbing her tired eyes. One of her pyjama legs has ridden up to her knee and her hair is sticking up on one side. Brendan had put the kids to bed early for a reason.

"Brendan," she mumbles around a yawn. "I'm thirsty."

Brendan sighs and heaves himself to his feet. She toddles into the kitchen with him and he lifts her up onto the counter. "Just water though," he says to her. "Ye know what you're dad's like about you having sugar past six."

"'Kay," she mumbles vaguely.

Brendan half fills a glass with water and hands it to her, rubs a hand absently up and down her back as she drinks it. Once she's finished, he lifts her back onto the floor and gives her hair a little ruffle. "Need me to tuck ye in?"

"No, it's okay," she says, but he does it anyway. He's just placing a kiss on her forehead when he hears Stephen coming in, calling out apologies as he crashes around the kitchen.

"Will ye keep it down?" Brendan says, pulling Leah's door shut quietly behind him. He joins Stephen in the kitchen. "The kids are asleep."

Stephen gives a sheepish grin. "Sorry," he says in a mock whisper. "I'm starving. Did you say summat about a takeaway earlier?"

Brendan sighs again. "In the living room."

"Ooh, great." Stephen goes into the living room and Brendan follows him, only to narrowly avoid crashing into Stephen when he comes to a sudden stop in the entryway. "Brendan, what—"

Brendan is instantly embarrassed. This is stupid. This isn't _him_. But Stephen's rounding on him with surprised, glistening eyes, so he has to explain himself.

"Valentine's Day," he mumbles, and waves a hand at the table in demonstration. It's lit up with candles accompanied by wine, dinner, napkins, good cutlery. In the middle sits a single red rose in a miniature white vase. "I thought…"

"Valentine's Day…" Stephen turns again to take it all in. "Oh my _god_," he says, and puts a hand to his mouth. A moment later Brendan sees the smile spreading over his face. "I didn't do anything because I didn't think you'd want to have anything to do with it. I didn't—god, Brendan."

He turns and buries his face in Brendan's chest as if he's too overwhelmed to face the world for a moment. Brendan doesn't really understand it—it's only a bit of dinner and a few candles. Except he does get it. He is Brendan Brady and Brendan Brady doesn't do romance.

Except when he has someone for whom making the effort is more than worth it.

Brendan trails his fingers over the back of Stephen's neck. "I got you something."

Stephen gives a little jerk at that, still not lifting his face from Brendan's chest. He doesn't say anything in response. It's as if he doesn't know how to communicate anymore.

"Here." Brendan manages to stretch his hand to the table without dislodging Stephen, takes the gift from where it had been sat beside Stephen's plate. He nudges Stephen until Stephen straightens again and looks at him. His eyes are wet.

"I'm sorry," Stephen says, wiping a hand over his face. "I'm being dead stupid. I just…"

"Here," Brendan says again, and hands Stephen the long, thin box. It's only a silver bracelet with their initials engraved on the underside, but it's something.

Stephen doesn't open it yet. He's looking at Brendan with wonder, as if something inside him has opened and let in more light. "Bren—" he mutters, and then surges forward to kiss the life out of him.

Suddenly Brendan doesn't mind so much that the dinner has gone cold.

**Christmas Day—Year 2**

It's been a year, and Brendan's still here, still in this flat, still in Stephen's bed. They haven't spent a night apart in an entire year and Brendan can barely wrap his mind around it.

"Mmph," Stephen groans, turning over and flinging his arm out until he whacks Brendan in the ribs. "Time s'it?"

"Nearly seven," Brendan says. He rolls to his side and takes Stephen's hand in his own. "Kids'll be up soon, looking to see what Santa brought them."

"Reckon we got one more year out've Leah," Stephen half says, half yawns, as he attempts to peel his eyes open, "before she figures out he doesn't exist."

It makes no difference to Brendan. He'll still get her everything she wants regardless.

He smiles, though, and leans over to give Stephen his customary good-morning kiss.

"No, don't!" Stephen says suddenly, shifting away. Brendan blinks at him in confusion. Nearly 370 morning kisses. Stephen has never refused him. "My mouth's proper rank after that whisky we had last night," Stephen explains. "Forgot to brush me teeth before bed."

Brendan considers it for a millisecond then kisses him anyway. Stephen giggles into it. "Ugh," he says when Brendan pulls away. "Bet that were dead nasty."

"Yep." Brendan kisses him again, because it's Christmas morning and that requires double doses of everything. The shit he's been through in his life—he can handle a bit of morning breath.

The sound of the kids rustling about in the bedroom next door puts an end to it and Stephen flings both arms over his face. "Nooo," he groans dramatically. "Five more minutes."

"Ye lucky ye got it this late," Brendan says. "I was expecting them up before dawn."

The kids run past the bedroom door without bothering to look in. Their excited gasps as they register the sheer volume of gifts beneath the tree has Brendan propelling himself out of bed in an attempt to go capture their reaction before it fades.

It's possible he might have spoiled them this year. He plans to double it next year.

**Father's Day—Year 3**

"Now, are we sure about this?" Brendan asks the kids conspiratorially. The three of them are huddled in the bathroom under the pretence of finding Lucas' toothbrush he claimed he'd dropped behind the toilet.

"Yesss," Leah says in frustration. Brendan's had her keeping this secret for over a week now and he can see her patience is wearing thin. "He's gonna _love it_, I promise."

"But do ye love it?" he asks for perhaps the tenth time. It's so important that they're on board with this.

"We already told you we do," Lucas says. "Can we just give it to him now?"

Brendan hesitates for a second. "Yeah," he says, and hands the envelope to Leah. "Okay, let's do it." His heart is hammering against his ribs.

"You took your time," Stephen says to them when they emerge in the living room. He hasn't moved from his spot on the couch, still half glued to the old episode of _Friends_ he's watching. "Did you find it?"

They don't answer him. Instead, Leah rushes forward and drops the large envelope onto Stephen's lap.

"We didn't _buy_ you anything," she explains. "For Father's Day. But we got you this. Me and Brendan and Lucas."

Stephen turns the envelope over. "What is it?" he asks, looking at Brendan, who's still hovering in the entryway.

Brendan swallows. "Open it and see."

After a puzzled look thrown at all three of them in turn, Stephen opens the envelope while, beside Brendan, Lucas bounces on his feet in excitement.

Stephen stares at the stack of paper he pulls from within the envelope. "This is—what's this?"

"It's—" Brendan clears his throat. "It's all the houses for sale near the kids' school."

"And they have _gardens_, Daddy, look," Leah says in a rush, unable to help herself, tugging the papers from Stephen's hands. "And this one's right next to the park. _This one_ has a massive tree in the back but _this—_this has a bedroom in the _loft_. See that window there—"

"I—" Stephen's looking at Brendan with dawning realisation lighting up his eyes.

"I thought we could pick a few to go look at this week," Brendan says. "We could have an offer in by the end of the month."

"You're buying a house?" Stephen asks softly.

Brendan shuffles his feet a little. "_We're_ buying _us_ a house. The family." He pauses. "If you want."

"Of course he wants," Lucas says in exasperation. "They have _gardens._ We can get a dog!" he adds brightly as if struck by the sudden thought.

Leah frowns at him over her shoulder. "I think you mean a cat."

A moment later they're arguing in the middle of the room about which house looks best. Brendan looks over the tops of their heads to Stephen, who gazes back with a big watery grin spread across his face. He nods and Brendan lets out a long, deep breath. They're going to do this.

**New Year's Eve—Year 3**

"Can't believe we're finally here," Stephen says, pulling open one of the boxes.

They'd been forced to spend Christmas in the old flat while the sale of this house trundled along slower than a snail's pace. The amount of problems they'd run into trying to secure this property—mostly due to the owners being uncooperative bastards. It was as if they didn't really want to sell. Brendan couldn't really blame them, though—it's a beautiful house.

Four bedrooms, a converted loft, conservatory, huge kitchen with an island smack in the middle of it. Stephen had fallen in love with it instantly. Brendan wasn't long following.

"Here," Brendan says, and tugs Stephen away from the box. "Leave that a minute." He glances at his watch before pulling Stephen into a loose embrace. "Twenty seconds," he says.

Stephen grins, tightening his arms around Brendan's middle. "They say the person you kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve is the person you'll be kissing for the entire year."

Brendan raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yeah." Stephen's grin widens, turns mischievous. "D'ya think I've got enough time to track down that waiter from the restaurant last week?"

"Cheeky shit," Brendan says, giving Stephen's side a quick tickle.

Stephen squirms until Brendan stops. Then he sobers. "I love you, you know."

Brendan's stomach does that weird flippy thing it does every time he hears those words. Fireworks rock the silence of the night suddenly. "Happy New Year," he says, and goes in for a long, deep kiss. When it ends, Brendan presses their foreheads together and says, "I love you too." He's only said it half a dozen times, but he means it now more than ever. Here, in their new family home, with the kids asleep upstairs and the kitten Leah got for Christmas rubbing up against his ankle.

**Leah's Birthday—Year 5**

Double digits. It's a big deal. Brendan can't believe how quickly she's grown. She sits at the table surrounded by cards all sporting a big number 10 and while he looks at her from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter, he thinks of how grown-up she appears already. It kind of scares him.

Stephen's out, dropping Lucas off at Saturday-morning football practice. It's just Brendan and Leah in the house, not counting the pets, and he lets the absurd sounds of whatever crap's pouring from Leah's iPod fill the quiet. Despite his best efforts, he's yet to turn her off bubblegum pop.

"Leah," he says, trying to get her attention. When there's no response, he snaps his fingers in front of her face. "Lee."

She looks up from her phone and tugs the buds out of her ears. "Sorry," she says. "Did you say something?"

"I was just wondering who you're bringing on this shopping trip today."

"No one," she says, blinking innocently at him. "I thought it'd just be you and me."

He'd wanted that, be he hadn't hoped. Leah was at an age where she needed her friends to be involved in everything, and ten years old means the start of makeup and smelly stuff and jewellery. All the things she'd want her friends to help her buy.

"Ye sure?"

She doesn't get a chance to answer. The front door crashes open and Declan comes stomping into the kitchen. "Dad," he says without preamble. "I need to borrow your car. Mine's not starting."

"No chance," Brendan says, flicking the kettle on. "Call a mechanic."

"I'm gonna be late for work."

"Not my problem," Brendan says. "And I need the car anyway. Me and Leah are going shopping."

"Shopping?" Declan says, then his eyes widen. "Oh shit, yeah." He shuffles over to Leah. "Happy birthday, Flea," he says, ruffling her hair. She squeals and bats his hand away. "I've got something for you back at mine."

"Something…like money?"

Declan snorts. "You get enough of that from Dad. Spoilt little princess."

"Oi," Stephen says, appearing suddenly in the kitchen. Brendan hadn't heard the front door open, which means Declan left it hanging wide again. "Watch who you're calling spoilt." He gives Brendan a quick kiss on the lips then digs in the fridge for a bottle of water.

"She is though," Declan says, rolling his eyes. He gives Stephen an assessing look. "Can I borrow your car? Mine's not starting."

"Yeah, all right," Stephen says distractedly and throws him the keys.

Declan gives Brendan the finger, grinning. Cocky little shit.

**Halloween—Year 8**

Brendan turns his phone over and over in his hands, waiting with frayed patience for Stephen's call. He'd left Stephen a message almost thirty minutes ago asking him please, _please_, to call him back. But so far, nothing.

The hotel room is nice, upmarket and modern. If he were here for any other reason, he'd be enjoying his stay. But he's been here for six days now under duress and he so badly wants to go home. He misses his own bed, his coffee maker, the cats and the mutt.

The kids. Stephen.

God, he misses Stephen.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when the phone rings and he answers it instantly without checking caller ID.

"Stephen?"

"Bren," comes Leah's quiet voice. "It's me."

"Leah, darlin'." The breath whooshes out of him. One part of him clings to the sound of her voice, elated to hear it again. Another part wishes more than anything it was Stephen who called. "How are ye?"

Leah sighs. "Dad's miserable. Snapping at everyone. He didn't even go to work today." She pauses and Brendan wants to have her in this room with him so he can hug her tight. "Can't you just come home?"

_Please_, Brendan thinks. "You know I want to," he says heavily. "But it's not up to me."

"Just come and talk to him. Make him listen."

"I've tried. He won't answer the door."

"He doesn't mean it, you know. He knows you were trying to do a good thing."

Brendan had thought so too, for a while. That was the initial intention. Take Stephen's half of the mortgage and bills put pay it back into his account slowly over time. Stephen needs his money; Brendan has more to spare and can afford to cover the costs of their life together. But when Stephen finally figured it out, he'd gone nuclear. Said Brendan had been controlling him again, not treating him as an equal. "_This is my house too that my kids live in. It's my right to contribute equally, Brendan._" The argument had escalated, old wounds had been reopened, and pretty quickly they were thrown back to the early days, reliving old memories, and Stephen needed him out of his space. "_I don't care where you go. Just get out._"

Six days, and he'd heard nothing since.

"I was wrong," Brendan admits to Leah. "I see that now."

"Yeah, well—Dad! Dad. Please come and talk to Brendan. Hang on," she says quietly into Brendan's ear, "I'll get him."

Brendan listens as Leah engages in a hushed argument with her father until eventually, blessedly, Stephen's desolate voice comes down the phone.

"What d'you want?"

"I want a joint account," Brendan says quickly, not daring to waste a second. "I want all my money and your money to become our money and I don't want any more of this bullshit about equality. I want us together, Stephen, and I want us to share everything. We should've done it years ago."

"Brendan—"

"Please, Stephen. I don't plan on ever letting you leave me so it's not like I care about your claim to my money. Let's just go to the bank in the morning and get this shit sorted. Put everything together. You already know that you own everything I am anyway."

"I'm not after your money, Brendan. Eight years is a long time to stay with someone just to get your hands on their cash."

"I know that," Brendan says. "Jesus, Stephen, it's not about that. We've built a whole life together. It's stupid to keep the finances separate. I genuinely have no idea why we haven't done it before now."

There's silence on the other end of the line.

"Please, Stephen," Brendan says again, allowing desperation to creep into his voice. "Let me come home."

Stephen lets the long pause linger before he says, "Lucas' Halloween party at the school finishes in an hour. If you want to pick him up—"

"Yes. Yeah. I'll do that." He feels as though his chest is going to split open with relief and happiness.

"I'll get dinner on," Stephen continues. "And, Brendan?"

"Yes?"

Stephen lowers his voice. "You've got a long night of making it up to me ahead of you."

Brendan grins, a proper grin that spreads across his entire face. "I've got some ideas," he says.

After a breathy laugh, Stephen says, "God, I've missed you." And then, "Not that you're forgiven yet," he adds sternly.

"'Course," Brendan says in his most serious voice, doing everything he can to smother his smile and failing.

**Lucas' Birthday—Year 9**

Brendan's too old for this shit. "Nope. No chance."

"Come _on_, Bren, please," Lucas pleads, looking up at Brendan with wide beseeching eyes.

Brendan takes another look at the rollercoaster. It's so high that Brendan's pretty sure that when you reach the top, you see god in heaven.

"Ye can't be serious. Look at that thing."

"I know! It's so cool. And the queue's really short. _Pleeeeaase_!"

Brendan sighs. He wishes Stephen were here so he could trade places, but god knows where he's disappeared to—something about a bathroom break. And now Brendan's trapped in amusement park hell with an overexcited kid who's trying to kill him.

He swallows the thick lump of absolute fear in his throat. "Fine, come on, quick, before I change my mind."

Stephen finds him afterwards throwing up into a nearby bush. "Things we do for our kids, eh," he says, chuckling, rubbing Brendan's back.

Brendan groans.

**Christmas Day—Year 9**

The house is packed—all four of their kids, Amy and her husband, Cheryl and her boyfriend, Joel, Theresa, Declan's latest squeeze. There isn't a single quiet area in the house except for their bedroom and that's where Brendan drags Stephen after dinner.

"Bren," Stephen says, giggling. "We can't now. Got all our family out there."

"I'm not looking for sex, Stephen," Brendan says, closing the door. "Well, not right this second anyway. If you give me a minute though—"

"Brendan!" Stephen's cheeks are flushed with too much wine. He's wearing stupid reindeer antlers on his head and somehow he's managed to get stray glitter caught in the developing wrinkles beside his eyes. He's never looked more beautiful.

"Look, sit down a sec." They sit together on the end of the bed and Brendan takes a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh my god," Stephen says dramatically. "Is this where you tell me you have cancer? I have this recurring dream, you know—"

"I don't have cancer, Stephen."

Stephen's shoulders slump. "Thank god." Then he eyes Brendan suspiciously. "Are you ill though?"

"Do I look ill?" Brendan asks, mildly offended. He thought he still looked pretty good for his age, thank you.

Stephen's serious face collapses into mirth. "No, you look well fit. Come here," he says, going in for a sloppy kiss.

"No, wait," Brendan says, fending him off. "I want to give ye your present first."

Stephen frowns. "You already gave me my presents."

"I got ye one more." Brendan steels himself and does everything he can to act as if his heart isn't about to burst out of his chest in terror. He pulls the small box from his pocket and opens it.

It's a simple ring, engraved platinum, but by the look on Stephen's face you'd think he'd never seen anything so majestic.

"Oh shit," he whispers; his face looks frozen in time. "Brendan, is this…"

Brendan pulls the ring from the box and takes Stephen's hand. "I was wondering," he begins, and then takes a deep breath to get his nerves under control, "if you'd do me the honour of a quickie wedding in Vegas followed by watching me win obscene amounts of money in the casinos."

"That is the least romantic proposal ever," Stephen says, but when he looks at Brendan, his eyes are glistening with tears. "I can't believe…"

Brendan gives Stephen's hand a gentle squeeze. "Will you?" he asks quietly, all bravado gone.

"Yes," Stephen says just as quietly. Then his face splits into a watery grin. "As if I'd pass up a trip to Vegas!"

It surprises a laugh out of Brendan. It's possible his own eyes might have been a little damp, but he kisses Stephen before he notices.

**Mother's Day—Year 11**

"Got everything?" Brendan says, slipping on his jacket.

Leah and Lucas are weighed down by bags full of gifts for their mother and clothes for their weekend away.

"Yep," Leah says. "I got Michael something too, just because it's their wedding anniversary next week as well. Thought I might as well get them both out of the way."

Somehow Leah's grown up with a bit of a posh accent, although fuck knows how that happened. It never fails to amuse Brendan though. "Let's get a move on then. I've got a meeting after I drop yis off."

"Bye, Dad!" Lucas calls back into the house, and then they all pile into Brendan's car.

A few minutes into the drive, Brendan turns down the radio and says to Leah beside him, "So you're getting on better with Michael these days?"

"Yeah," Leah says with a small sigh. "He's stopped trying to act like my dad now."

"Nothing wrong with him looking out for ye," Brendan says diplomatically.

"I know." She gives him a shy smile. "I don't need another dad though." There's a pause, and then, "I've already got two."

"Another one would be greedy," Lucas pipes up from the back seat. Brendan doesn't say anything in response—he's too busy basking in the glow of joy and pride. "I like Michael though. Even if he is shit on the Xbox."

"Language," Brendan admonishes quietly, and then turns up the radio before he can say anything soppy and completely embarrassing.

**Brendan's Birthday—Year 20**

It's still just as good as it ever was. Whatever ups and downs they've had, this has been consistent—better, even, over time. They act as one now, joined in a shared rhythm. It's as close to perfection as Brendan's ever known.

He slides into Stephen slowly, languidly, and revels in the sigh of pleasure Stephen releases. He can feel Stephen around every inch of him—they stopped using condoms years ago and Brendan can't ever imagine feeling that barrier again.

"Love you," Stephen whispers once Brendan's buried all the way inside. Then he smiles. "Old man."

There's no denying it. Brendan's old. He was old when he met Stephen and he's twenty years older now. But he's never felt healthier, more complete. Despite the greying hair and the sagging bits Stephen insists he loves.

He dips down to kiss Stephen's lips, his forehead, his eyelids, the side of his face warmed by early morning sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. Stephen's not exactly young himself—he's greying, wrinkling, less golden skin and more extra padding. But he's beautiful to Brendan. He always will be.

Later, as Brendan's putting the breakfast dishes away, Leah arrives with her boyfriend in tow.

"Gang-dad!" Brendan hears an instant before his knees are attacked by a whirlwind of overexcited toddler.

"Oooph," Brendan says, and scoops up Emma, his granddaughter. She giggles when his moustache tickles her face as he plants a big kiss on her cheek. "Ye terror. Did ye get me a present?"

"We got you the pleasure of our company," Leah says, dumping her bag and jacket on the table.

"And this," her boyfriend Charlie says, rolling his eyes at Leah and holding out a wrapped gift to Brendan. "Happy birthday."

"Thank ye, son," Brendan says, taking it from him. He puts it on the counter and then sits Emma beside it. When he reaches for the tin he keeps in the top cupboard, Emma claps her hands together in excitement and Leah groans.

"Spoiling her already," she says, filling the kettle. "She's not been here two minutes."

"Shut it, you," he says to her, then opens the tin and lets Emma dig through to find a sweet she wants.

"Where's Dad?"

"Still in bed, the lazy git," Brendan says, helping Emma rip the wrapper off the lolly she's chosen. "Think I wore him out," he adds with a smirk.

"Ew." Leah puts the kettle on, gives Brendan a flick around the ear, then says, "I'm gonna get him up."

Once she's left the room and Brendan's put Emma on the floor so she can toddle off to the toy box they keep in the lounge, Charlie clears his throat. Brendan looks at him, notices the shiftiness in the way he stands.

"Something on your mind, son?"

"Um," Charlie says. He rubs the back of his neck. "I was, uh, thinking of asking Leah to marry me."

Brendan raises an eyebrow. "Thinking about it, or planning to?"

"Planning to. If, uh. That is. If you agree."

"Hmm," Brendan says, and makes him sweat a little as he makes the tea. He hands a steaming mug to Charlie and says, "I think it's about goddamn time, Charles."

Charlie's face collapses in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Brendan says, and holds out his spare hand for Charlie to shake. "Just make me proud to call you my son-in-law."

"I will."

"What's this?" Leah says, coming into the kitchen and noticing their handshake in motion. "Congratulating Brendan on getting this old and not dying yet?"

"Ha," Charlie says awkwardly, taking a seat at the table. "Something like that."

"Watch who you're calling old," Stephen says, following Leah into the room in his boxers and one of Brendan's old T-shirts. "Plenty of life left in this one," he adds, leaning up to give Brendan a kiss.

"I'll outlive ye all, you watch," Brendan says. He gives Stephen's bum a pinch for good measure.

"Gang-dad!" calls little Emma from the lounge. "Gang-dad!"

"The princess demands your attention," Leah says, rolling her eyes. "Why haven't you got any biscuits in?"

"'Ere, how many of us are at this meal tonight?" Stephen's saying as Brendan heads to the lounge. He finds Emma sitting on the couch with a toy phone in her hand.

"It's for you," she says, holding the phone out to him expectantly.

He sits beside her and takes the phone. "Hello?" he says, and proceeds to have a conversation with no one while Emma climbs all over his back.

When he feels a twinge in his hip, he puts it down to a life well lived.


End file.
